What is Lost and What is Left Behind
by belletylers
Summary: A typical day for everyone on Team Gibbs, except Tony. While remembering a tragic event from his past, a case leads him to a choice that will change his future. But he's changing, and Ziva knows she isn't the only one who sees it. Slightly AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've said this before, and I will say it again, my best ideas come to me while I'm in the shower. This was one of them.  
>I am trying my hand at a case-fic that has quite serious repercussions with a certain Senior Field Agent, who's already got a problem on his hands. The main thing I am aiming for is for it to be in-character and interesting, but first chapters are not always something to go on for the rest of the story. Enjoy :) <strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, sadly.**

…

It was an ordinary day fall day to everyone at NCIS. As its elevator doors groaned as they opened for another day, the stained orange walls and everyone behind them screamed ordinary. And on this ordinary day the bullpen fell quiet, and two sets of curious eyes were set upon the man whose very wit and humour this mediocre morning was lacking: Tony DiNozzo.

"Why are you guys looking at me like that?" he asked his teammates, as if silence was something to be expected from him, _him, _of all people.

"You are quiet," Ziva David replied, twirling a pencil between her fingers thoughtfully. Tony knew she was trying to read him, it was what she did. Most would call it caring, but he felt he didn't really need anyone inside his head.

"I'm fine," he muttered in reply, pulling open his desk drawer and grabbing a key, to which he opened the bottom drawer of the locked filing cabinet beside him. He flicked to the very back file, and pulled out a white envelope. He flopped back into his chair and stared at it for a moment, then slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

Timothy McGee shot a look over at Ziva from the other side of the bullpen, and she knew exactly what he was trying to say. This was not Tony. He did not have strange envelopes locked away. He was not quiet, and he certainly did not keep secrets. If he had something to tell, he would usually brag about it.

Growing more confused at her partner's behaviour by the minute, Ziva rose from her chair and sauntered over to his desk.

"Was mud wrestling not as amusing as usual, Tony?" she queried, tilting her head and ever so slightly pouting her lip, the way she did when she was trying to get information out of him.

"What're ya talking about? It was great, it was…" he trailed off. "I heard McGee talked to his dad!" he suddenly thought. Ziva turned around and smiled at her friend, while Tony mouthed 'sorry'.

"Well done, McGee. Did you work things out?" Ziva asked. Though while interested in McGee's father-son reunion, she was only turning her full attention away from Tony because she knew how much he wanted her to. He was worrying about something, and he would come out with it when he was ready to, with a little help of course.

"Yeah, he came over for dinner, we talked," McGee answered, a small smile on his pale face. "Turns out he's been trying to get in touch with Sarah too, but he's havin' a little less luck with her. They got along even worse than he did with me."

"Well good for you, McGee," Tony said in a loud voice.

"Hey, what about your father, Tony, I heard you two were keeping in touch," McGee said, his somewhat amateur gut telling him that DiNozzo Sr. was the source of Tony's bad mood. It wouldn't be a first time.

"He's fine, you know, himself," the older agent answered, shrugging.

Ziva watched him carefully. Tony Sr. wasn't the problem, but something was.

"Grab your gear, we got a—" Gibbs said as he swiftly entered the bullpen, coffee in hand.

"Dead marine," McGee and Ziva answered in unison.

"Catch phrase getting a little old for ya?" Gibbs asked in his usual intimidating manner. The two agents faltered and proceeded to grab their packs, along with Tony, who said nothing. McGee watched as Gibbs' expression turned into a slight frown. Even he had noticed. Because somewhere along the line, they had all expected him to jump in with a good number of suggestions for catch phrases.

…

Local LEOs had taped off the crime scene and were taking crime scene photos.

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS," Gibbs introduced himself to the middle-aged man who appeared to be in charge, his three agents behind him. "This is McGee, DiNozzo and Special Agent David." Ziva couldn't help but smile at her new title.

"Detective Brent Thornton, Maryland PD," the man replied, shaking Gibbs' hand. He was just short of Gibbs' height with red cheeks and was probably on the heavier side. "NCIS, huh? I was wondering when you were gonna show up."

"Well, we're here now, whaddaya got?" Gibbs asked.

Detective Thornton turned to lead them through the crime scene, which appeared to be in the living room of the victim's house, where a body lay in one of the chairs. "Victim's Petty Officer Leonard Morrison, found this morning."

"Who found him?" Gibbs asked.

"One of the neighbours," Thornton replied, removing his cap to scratch at his balding head. "Claimed he wanted to borrow a power sander. My men are getting his statement now. The wife and ten year old daughter are at the wife's mother's place."

"We'll need a copy of the statement."

"You got it," Thornton said, patting Gibbs on the shoulder, placing his hat back on his head and leaving the room, passing Ducky and Palmer on his way out.

"What a fine morning," the Scotsman commented. "I suppose not so much for this fellow."

Ducky let out a short grunt as he kneeled beside the deceased body and Team Gibbs set of to process the evidence.

"Well, it seems to me that this fellow's cause of death was a gunshot to the chest, at close range," Ducky said, then lifting up the victim's hands. "There aren't any defensive wounds."

"He knew his killer," Gibbs concluded.

"That would appear to be the case," Ducky replied. "Of course, we'll know more when we get him back."

"Seems like a pretty boring way to do things," Jimmy said, thinking aloud again.

"What do you mean, Mr Palmer?"

"Well, gunshot at close range, no signs of a scuffle, no defensive wounds…it seems to me that whoever killed him just walked in here and shot him while he was just watching TV. Pretty boring way to do things, if you ask me."

Ducky frowned quizzically. "Say that again, Mr Palmer."

"What, it's a boring way to do things?"

"No, look at his eyes. They're open, facing towards the television."

"Someone whacked him while he was watching TV?" Tony asked, turning to face the ME and his assistant with the camera in his hands.

"That isn't the way I would put it but yes," Ducky answered. "Since no attention was given to the killer, perhaps he was expecting company."

"Got a time of death, Duck?" Gibbs asked, and Ducky turned to Jimmy, who examined the temperature.

"0500 hours," Jimmy answered, a little proudly.

On the other side of the room, Tony bent to pull a sheet of paper up from the carpet.

"What is it?" Ziva asked, peering over his shoulder.

"It's a painting," he said softly. '_By Casey' _was written in the top right-hand corner, along with the date, the eighth of May, and at the bottom of the painting, the title of, _'My Family'._

It was a classic children's painting: sun in the corner, big blue sky, and green grass with a big house in the middle. Next to the house were three figures. One was what looked to be a dog, with 'Oscar' written underneath, a tall woman captioned 'Mommy' and a small figure that said 'Casey'. Daddy wasn't in the picture. Ziva looked at Tony in surprise, but he turned away from her, holding the painting at arm's length. "Bag it," he ordered, and went back to his pictures.

Ziva knew one thing: this was certainly ten times worse than the Brenda Bitner incident. Because she was sure, that from behind that camera, she saw Tony's eyes tear up just a little.

…

**A/N: There is more coming soon, I promise. This case is just **_**starting **_**to get personal. This won't be too long, but I don't know if I can give you a number yet. Reviews are love :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: SO sorry for the failure to update but THANKYOU so much for the amazing response! That was probably the biggest I have gotten for a first chapter, so thank you very much :) I have been thinking about this story all week, and I have this amazing image in my head of where it'll lead. I am not sure how long it will be but I say that with every story. Like one I am working on at the moment, I thought would be 5-7 chapters and is still going pretty strong at 17, so we never know!**

She watched him.

All day, she watched him.

Eye of the tiger, he had said to her once, but one did not need those eyes to know something was wrong. His fingers stroked about two words a minute on his keyboard, between each stroke stopping and losing himself in his own little world, just for a moment. She looked up at the sound of every button, usually irritated by his loud typing but this time just full of concern. She worried about him, like she would worry about anyone she was so close with. She tried to catch McGee and Gibbs' eyes, but they were, as usual, engrossed in their work.

"Boss," McGee said, hanging up his phone and breaking the unbearable silence between the team. "Morrison's wife's coming in for an interview in an hour. She is at her mother's house, but is on her way now."

"That's good work, McGee," Gibbs said. "Anyone got a motive?"

"None so far, boss. Everyone seemed to like our Petty Officer."

"Well someone obviously didn't," Gibbs murmured in a slightly frustrated tone, standing from his chair, and swiping his hand through the air to grab his coffee on the way to Autopsy.

…

"Hello, Jethro," Ducky greeted in his usual cheery tone when Gibbs arrived.

"Hey, Duck, whaddaya got?" Gibbs replied, skipping the formalities, though only because he knew Ducky didn't mind.

"Well, it seems that Jimmy was right," Ducky said, and Jimmy beamed, though it didn't last long because his cell phone rang a second later. Breena _again. _Ducky and Gibbs ignored it, and poor Jimmy followed suit. "He was killed while watching television, or at least being preoccupied. There were no signs of someone adjusting his head to make it look so. He was in perfectly good health, a fit young lad. Such a shame," Ducky continued, looking pitifully at the pale body on the slab.

"Nothing out of the ordinary?" Gibbs asked, his voice a little raised, over the shrill ringing.

"I collected the contents of his stomach and a blood sample and sent them to Abby, but so far our initial assumption has proven correct."

"Thanks Duck," Gibbs said. "And Palmer, you've got the rest of your life to ignore calls from her. I'd take them while you can."

Jimmy looked a little bashful and picked up his cell.

…

"Hey, Gibbs," Abby said, her voice muffled by her hand pressed against her mouth as she leant on her desk.

He handed her a Caf-POW. "Tired, Abs?"

"Exhausted," she replied. "I was tossing and turning all night. And let me tell you Gibbs, there's not all that much room to toss and turn in a coffin."

"I can build you a bigger one if you'd like, Abs."

She turned, her pigtails swishing. "It's OK. I like a tight fit."

Gibbs smiled. "Got anything for me?"

"I ran the samples that Ducky sent me, and the contents of his stomach consisted of things you'd normally eat for breakfast: eggs; butter; bread. No alcohol, no drugs, not even medication. This guy was cleaner than clean. Almost squeaky."

"Then why did someone shoot him in the chest?" Gibbs asked himself, and then looked at Abby, who was frowning at her computer screen.

"Something wrong, Abby?"

"There is. Something's…off-balance in Abby-world. It's why I couldn't sleep last night. I'm a little psychic, you know, Gibbs."

"And what did you predict?"

"Hasn't Tony been a little weird today? I saw him in the parking lot this morning and he barely said a word. He didn't even smile. It's just so…" She searched for a word.

Gibbs leant close and whispered in her ear, a suggestion: "Hinky?"

She jumped and pointed to him. "You're right! You're so right! And not just about Tony, about everything! I used to say Hinky all the time, and now it doesn't even come to mind. Hinky is going to make a comeback!" She stopped jumping excitedly and returned to her desk, back in work-mode.

"No, thank _you_,Abby," Gibbs said, kissing her temple.

…

Later that morning, Gibbs was waiting at the elevator to meet Sarah Morrison to interview her. McGee and Ziva were looking over background on her husband, Leonard, their victim. McGee brought their driver's license pictures up next to each other on the plasma. "Sarah and Leonard got married 15 years ago, when they were both 25. Celebrated their anniversary in April," McGee informed Ziva, and Gibbs who was a little further away.

"I think it is nice two people can be happy for so long," Ziva said. "It makes you believe there is someone out there for everyone."

"Even Gibbs?" McGee muttered, very quietly.

"Just because two people aren't together _forever _does not mean they were not meant, by fate, to cross paths at some point."

"Never did believe in fate," Gibbs said loudly, letting them know he had heard every word he had just said.

At that moment, Tony walked into the squad room silently and took a seat at his desk, looking up when he felt eyes on him for what felt like the millionth time that day. He went to ask why they were staring but his words were lost as a rose from his seat to take a better look at the picture of the blonde woman on the screen. "Is that…" he whispered as the elevator '_ding'_-ed.

Gibbs escorted Sarah Morrison gently towards the conference room, but before they barely got to the stairs she stopped dead in her tracks.

"_Tony?_ Is that you?" she asked, surprised.

Tony did a double take, realising the woman in the picture and the woman in front of him were one and the same.

"Sarah…" he tried to say, his voice cracking in his throat.

**A/N: I am going to leave it there, but I would love to hear your speculations! I seriously doubt you can guess who Sarah really is, but you can try!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I apologise for the wait, but I have loved reading your guesses and reviews! Amazingly, no one got it right. Here's your newest chapter!**

"Sarah…" Tony repeated, the word not so familiar to his tongue anymore. She was barely the same person anymore. Her curls had been traded for a sensible ponytail, and there were circles under her deep blue eyes. She looked older too, like someone had etched tiny lines into a portrait of her face, but she was still somehow, the Sarah he remembered.

From in front of the plasma, he approached her to just right of his desk, where she and Gibbs were standing. All the other team members watched him with an expression too shocked for them to actually do anything.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said softly, not knowing what else.

"Thank you, Tony. I'm sure Leonard would appreciate that. I know he really liked you," the blonde replied meekly. She turned around, reading Gibbs' impatient stare. "I have to go. But I'd love to catch up with you, sometime. You were always good to talk to, I recall."

"Guess I owe you one," he said, and she smiled, though her eyes were full of tears. She bravely wiped them as Gibbs escorted her towards the conference room, making a point not to look at Tony as he did so.

"Ex-girlfriend?" McGee questioned.

Tony shook her head, watching the place where Sarah had just stood.

"Former co-worker?" Ziva guessed.

"Nope," Tony whispered, sitting down tiredly.

"Why didn't you say you knew the victim?" she asked, wondering why he would hold something back like that.

"Well, we weren't…I didn't…" Tony tried to lie, his brain just wasn't letting him. He sighed. "We don't talk anymore. I didn't think it mattered."

"Were you close?" McGee asked.

"We shared a few drinks and all that, but it was years ago," Tony replied, scribbling something onto a piece of paper. He wasn't saying anything more, and Ziva and McGee backed away and sat down at their respective desks, still with Ziva looking Tony's way every minute or so.

…

"Take a seat," Gibbs murmured to the grieving woman, gesturing to the chair across from his. "Just need to ask you a few questions, ma'am."

"Sarah's fine, Agent Gibbs, and I'm happy to answer any questions you have for me."

"How do you know DiNozzo?" he asked, cutting to the chase.

"I've known Tony for more than twenty years," she answered with a melancholy smile. "He's like family to me."

"Is he? Are you his family?"

"By blood, no. But family isn't just DNA, Agent Gibbs."

"Then what kind of family are we talking about, Sarah?"

She leant forward. "How long have you worked with him?"

"Ten years. Tony is like a son to me."

"With all due respect, if you don't know the answer, then I shouldn't be telling you. That's a decision Tony has to make for himself."

Gibbs bit back his wild curiosity and retort at a question of his agent's trust and just asked her a case-related question.

"Can you think of anyone who would want to come after Leonard?"

Sarah chewed her lip carefully. "If you had asked me that a week ago I would have an answer."

"But?" he prompted.

"Darren Lamworth," she confessed. "He used to be our neighbour. Ten years ago, we moved places. I…" she held her head in her hands, fighting back tears. "I had an affair with him. It was just a few times, before Leonard came back from overseas. I broke it off when Leonard got back, but he wouldn't leave me alone. We were looking to move anyway, and so we did. We didn't see him until last weekend, at a barbeque from a family in the street that we kept in touch with. He saw my daughter, and thought she was his. The math added up right. I told him the truth, that she was adopted, but he wouldn't believe me." She scrambled around in her handbag to find her phone, with a picture of her little girl, and handed it to Gibbs.

"She's beautiful," Gibbs commented, but frowned. The girl had brown hair, and big green eyes. Opposite to blonde-haired blue-eyed Sarah, but they looked…similar somehow. "She looks like you." How could that be? Sarah had said she was adopted. "Who are her biological parents?"

"You really don't know?" Sarah asked.

Gibbs shook his head, his worry growing and his gut telling him something was up. "Why should I?"

"Casey's birth mom is my sister, Wendy," she explained, a sad tinge to her voice. She stopped at the sound of the door opening. "Unfortunately, she didn't make it through the birth. Leo and I took her in."

"What about the father?"

There was a knock to the door. It was Tony.

"Hey Boss, the Director wants to see you," he muttered.

"Maybe you should ask him yourself."

It was then it clicked: the girl in the photo bore some resemblance to Sarah, yes, but it was now he saw it, she was an exact lookalike to the man standing in front of him now.

Could this little girl be his?

**A/N: Well you should have some idea as to who Sarah is now. I'll update when I can. Reviews are love xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey y'all! I know it's been too long, I've been super busy, and have been dealing with some rather serious "creative stifling". But I have loved reading all your reviews and I'm glad you are enjoying the story. Here is chapter 4!**

Tony hesitated for a moment before tapping his knuckles on the orange-painted door. How could a door he had walked through hundreds of times be of such significance now? It was the gateway to his past, present, and maybe even his future. All he really wanted to do was solve the case but no, he happened to walk past Vance on the way to the bathroom.

He carefully stuck his head in the door, expecting a glare and a scornful comment from Gibbs. But Gibbs didn't say a word. He didn't even glare. This was more like gawking, actually. Gibbs didn't gawk.

"Director wants to see you," Tony said, before Gibbs came to his senses, which at the sound of his voice, he did.

"Now?" he sighed.

"He said it was urgent," the Senior Field Agent replied, looking somewhat apologetic. Rule 22 was one to remember.

Gibbs slid the photo across the table carefully to Sarah, who took it and slipped it back into the window slot in her purse.

"Thanks for your help, Sarah," he told her, standing. "We've got what we need for now but we will have to finish this interview on another day."

"Call me whenever you need me," Sarah replied. "Whatever helps you find who did this. I know you will, Agent Gibbs."

A wandering agent escorted Sarah to the exit while Gibbs beckoned DiNozzo with his pointer finger.

"Yeah, Boss?" he asked in a plain tone.

"Why didn't you tell me about all this?"

"About all what?" he tried to lie, but just felt a sharp sting to the back of his head, and winced.

"Casey Morrison, age 10. Daughter of Sarah and Leonard. Or so we thought."

"Casey," he whispered, that word in so long had not been said.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Gibbs asked.

"I wanted to let go. I had to, otherwise I knew I'd have second thoughts. If I let go, it would be better for everyone."

"What happened?" Gibbs' piercing blue eyes staring right into Tony's, and seeing something more than his usual emerald green. He saw pain, hurt, and he saw a man who had once been a father, like himself.

"It's kind of a long story, Boss, and Vance seemed pretty urgent to see you."

Gibbs nodded, understanding without knowing anything at all. He spoke to Tony with his back turned as he walked away. "My door's always open, DiNozzo."

Tony smiled a little at Gibbs' words. It wasn't an obligation, nor an order or a command. It was but a simple invitation, nothing said if it was not taken up.

…

It was a while before Gibbs re-entered the bullpen, where his team were working in silence – an unusual but welcome change to the norm.

"McGee, I want a background check on Darren Lamworth. Sarah's named him as the potential killer," he ordered, morphing from father figure mode to investigator mode in a flash.

"On it, Boss," McGee replied, his fingers hitting the keys in a blur. In seconds, a driver's licence appeared on the plasma, with the image of 45-year old Darren Lamworth, a rather large man with thin black hair on a balding head, a large nose and small brown eyes under large dark fuzzy brows. "He doesn't appear to have any criminal record, Boss. This guy's totally clean."

"Wait a sec, I remember that guy," Tony piped up, standing from his desk. Ziva looked his way, her curiosity to Tony's involvement with this case showing again. "He used to live next door to W – Sarah," he corrected himself. The last thing he needed to do was tell this story. Not now. Not today.

"Sarah Morrison had an affair with him whilst Leonard was overseas," Gibbs explained, repeating what Sarah had said during the interview.

"Couldn't break it off?" Ziva guessed.

"Ran into them recently and claims that their daughter Casey is his."

For a second, all that was heard was Tony's sharp intake of breath. Gibbs looked at him understandingly, but McGee and Ziva's expressions were notably different. Mainly confused.

"Is he?" Ziva asked.

"No," Gibbs answered, looking at Tony. "Casey was adopted."

"But he could not be convinced otherwise," she concluded.

"Killed Leonard to get the husband out of the picture and move in on Sarah?" McGee suggested.

"So we have our motive," Ziva continued.

"Now we need to find out where he was at the time of the crime," Gibbs finished, and he and Tony sat down. The Senior Field Agent shot his boss a grateful look, but unfortunately, it did not escape Ziva's eyes.

…

Ziva hated to admit it, but by the end of the day this was killing her. After hours of searching unsuccessfully for the whereabouts of Darren Lamworth (finding only that he had been at work the previous day but no one had seen him since he checked out), all they knew was that he may or may not have been responsible for the death of Leonard Morrison, and if he was, Sarah and Casey were possibly at risk. And somewhere in the middle of this, was Tony. He knew Sarah, somehow, and he had known her for years, without any of them ever hearing a word about her. She decided they needed to talk, and she had a gut feeling it would take more than five minutes in the men's room to sort it out. So she did what he would do, had the roles been reversed.

"Drink?" she offered kindly, swinging her backpack over her shoulder and glancing out at the particularly dark night through the nearby window, the low lights of the bullpen reflecting in its glass.

"Not tonight," he declined, copying her motions and heading for the elevator. She tried to stop him, standing in his way.

"Ziva," he said, in a rather serious tone, almost a warning. But she wouldn't back off. They were the only two left at work; she could be honest.

"I am worried about you, Tony," she told him.

"Don't be," he replied.

She watched him for a moment. He was so closed off, so tight-lipped right now it was lucky she was getting words out of him at all.

"OK," she gave in. "But if you change your mind—"

"I won't," he said, pushing past her and getting into the elevator. She felt hurt by that. Whatever he was going through must have been hard, because he never acted like this, especially not towards her. She gave a passing glance to the squad room before going to leave, but noticing something. That white envelope Tony had been carrying all day was sitting on his desk. He had forgotten to lock it away again. Slowly, she approached it, as if it would jump out at her. She picked it up, gently handling the paper. She knew it was private, but all she wanted to do was help him, and it was not like he had ever respected her boundaries.

Ever so carefully, her fingers slid under the flap, revealing the envelope's contents.

**A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that :) I'll try to update quicker next time. **

**-superashy8 **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Wow, it's been forever since I updated! I feel so bad, sorry guys. I could give you a bucket load of excuses, most of which are true but I am sure you don't want to hear, but I won't. I will just get right on with the story. **

Ziva was concentrating so hard on the moral battle going on inside her that she almost didn't hear the elevator go off again.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked, and she almost threw the envelope into the air in surprise, but she managed to breathe, swallow and answer, "You…you left this."

"Yeah, I know," Tony snapped, storming towards his desk. "That's why I came to get it." He stepped forward and snatched it from her grasp, walking back towards the elevator.

"I would not have looked, you know," she called to him, not entirely sure if it was true, but hoping that it was. She would not have done it if she had known it would hurt him, which apparently it would have.

"Really, 'cause it seems to me like you would've," he replied aggressively, turning around to face her as she tried to follow him.

"I am just concerned, Tony."

"Don't be," he snapped.

"You are not yourself," she persisted.

"Just stop it!" he shouted. _Shouted._ He shouted at her. He never shouted at her. "Leave me alone, OK?" He whispered the last few words, and left, without even a look back.

She stood there, glued to her spot, for several minutes after, trying to work out just what had happened between them.

…

They barely spoke the next day. Not even a passing glance across the squad room or a look across the six dysfunctional feet between their respective desks. Gibbs must have sensed something was wrong because when a BOLO came back on Darren Lamworth's cell phone, they were the ones sent to check it out.

The car ride over there was virtually silent. From the white-knuckled grip Tony had on the wheel she was glad she had not asked to drive, and she knew he was still fuming. She felt awful for betraying his trust and privacy. Whatever was in that envelope must have been important, and obviously still was, because she knew he was still carrying it with him.

Once a little-worded conversation and short look around their destination proved a dead end to their search for Lamworth, they simply slid back into their seats, and Tony took the wheel on the drive back to NCIS. But when he took a wrong turn on the way back, Ziva couldn't help but speak up.

"Tony, work is that way," she said wearily. He knew the roads well, and it was unusual for something like this to happen to him.

"I know," he answered

Shortly, they pulled into a cemetery, and Ziva began to get a little worried. Tony parked and led Ziva up a short slope to a beautiful memorial stone.

_Here Lies  
>Wendy Miller-DiNozzo<br>Loving Wife, Caring Daughter, Mother in Heaven_

Ziva's eyes grew wider as she took in every word, and with a sad expression, Tony pulled the mysterious envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her, and finally, its contents were revealed to her.

They were photographs. Each contained a beautiful woman with auburn hair and beautiful white teeth. They were all just of her until she came to one where she wore a white gown and veil and the man next to her, in a tux, held her close with the most loving smile she had ever seen. The photo after that, her belly was growing bigger and bigger. There was an ultrasound photo. But the story seemed to end there, and she found herself back at the beginning, no idea where to go to. No doubt he had felt this way for a long time, and once she realised this was the source of all his pain and resentment, she did not blame him. He could have become a lot worse, like Gibbs, shut off from the world, never speaking to anyone about anything unless it was absolutely necessary, and living a solitary lifestyle.

Tony didn't turn out like that. He fed his cravings for love with things that he knew would keep him from being hungry for long enough until he could find another. He needed love in his life, even if it was in the form of a bimbo ten years younger than him.

And now, she saw a whole new side of him. One that pain had cut and bruised and scarred and damaged, just like her. Tears came to her eye as she realised how much he had been through, like all of them. She realised they were more alike than she thought they were. And most importantly, she realised how brave he was.

"I am sorry," she said to him, taking his hand in hers.

"It was ten years ago this week that I lost her," he admitted. "I had my whole future planned out with her. We were gonna have a family, we were married. I proposed to her the same week I met Gibbs, you know that? Then everything went pear-shaped. Just before she was due, I got a job at NCIS. We were gonna move to the city, but one day while packing her water broke, and the doctors said there was haemorrhaging, and that they couldn't stop it. She never got to hold our little girl."

"What happened after?"

"Wendy had a sister, Sarah, and she and her husband wanted a baby so bad, but they couldn't conceive a child. I was a mess, and I was changing jobs. We would have been able to raise her together, but alone I never could. So I gave my daughter the best thing I could give her: a fresh start, with people that would care for her and love her just as well as I could. A few weeks later, Casey Evelyn DiNozzo had her last name changed to Morrison," Tony said, and Ziva looked up, alarmed, "and moved in with her new mom, Sarah, and Dad, Leo. I stopped talking to them. They'd send me photos but she reminded me too much of Wendy. I regret not being there for her, when I should have been. I love her so much, more than you think you could possibly love a thing. I miss her. I bet she has my charm."

"Maybe it isn't too late."

Tony sighed. "Thanks for listening."

It was then Ziva realised in the whole time he had been talking, she hadn't let go of his hand. She squeezed it reassuringly and he squeezed right back. Something about her had always made her a good listener. He got her. He supposed that was why it always worked.

**A/N: I hope this was a satisfactory chapter. Once I realised I **_**had **_**to update, encouraged by a very lovely anon named Laura, I tried to write this as quickly as I could. If it seems a little rushed I apologise, and in the future I will try to update faster. This story shouldn't be that much longer. A few more chapters, probably. Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: SHUT THE FRONT DOOR, I finally updated? I'm so sorry, I really am, but I've been so incredibly stuck on ideas and distracted and it's just really annoying. Anyway, I hope you can forgive me because I've written another chapter!**

"I guess we should be heading back," Tony sighed, staring down at his once love's gravestone.

Ziva nodded. "Thank you," she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek, rubbing the skin with her thumb.

"For what?"

"For telling me. I am glad you opened up about it." Slowly, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips lightly to his other cheek. "If you ever want to talk about it, just call."

"Thanks, Ziva," he replied sincerely, and they both turned around to walk back to the car. 'Just a question, though…"

She looked at him. "Fire."

He assumed she meant 'shoot' but ignored it. "Since when do we do that?"

"Do what?"

"Talk," he answered with a smirk. The old Tony and Ziva would keep everything bottled up inside them until it killed them. They barely said a word about their feelings, and if they did it was either completely cryptic or out of anger or frustration.

"We don't, I suppose," she answered honestly. "But this case has showed me that perhaps a person's time on this planet doesn't seem like enough. I am sure that Sarah did not believe it was Leonard's time to leave, and now she is without a husband, and Casey without a fa…" she faltered. "Well, without the man who raised."

"Thanks for your discretion, but don't worry about it. I know I'll never be Casey's real dad. Not to her, at least. I know I did the right thing. It kills me that I wasn't there for her more but everybody has regrets, I guess."

"Maybe I am thinking the same thing: that I do not want to live with regrets. If, uh, if I was to lose you then I would not want to regret us being closer."

He glanced at her, with his eyebrows raised.

"You know what I mean."

He smiled at her. He really was lucky to have her in his life. It was only the hardest of times when he realised it.

…

The drive back to the Navy Yard was peaceful enough. The two partners even talked a little, without dredging up _too _much of the past.

But all the peace and quiet almost the second they walked through the elevator. Tony's cell phone rang, and when he looked at the Caller ID, he saw it was Sarah.

"Wonder what's wrong," Ziva thought aloud, peering over his shoulder. "Agents are on protection detail with her and Casey."

"Only one way to find out," Tony said, and flipped the phone open. "Agent DiNozzo."

"_Tony!" _was the frantic call from the other end of the line. _"Tony, Casey's missing!"_

It took Tony a split second to leap over his desk, grab his backpack and race out the door. Ziva shot a confused look at McGee, who shrugged, and she looked to Gibbs.

"What're you doing, David?" he asked. He pointed to the door. "Go!"

"Right," Ziva replied, chasing after Tony.

...

"Stay there, Sarah, I'll be there in ten minutes," Tony said into the phone, clearly trying not to sound panicked.

"If you let me drive I'll make it seven," Ziva called, catching up to him as he approached the car. He nodded at Ziva.

"Make it seven. Don't worry, I'll find her."

Ziva's eyes widened. "What's happened?"

"Just drive, I'll explain it on the way."

"Then I suggest you buckle up," she said, both hands on the wheel, foot to the pedal. As the car sped off, Tony had to hold on to the handle for fear of being thrown from the vehicle. Some things really do never change.

…

When they arrived at the house, Sarah was in tears. The blonde ran to Tony, and he held her without hesitation.

"Tony, someone's got my baby," she sobbed. "Someone's got my baby girl."

Tony stroked Sarah's blonde hair and stole a glance at Ziva. Surprisingly, she wore a look of sympathy. They both remembered the last time they had dealt with a hysterical mother whose daughter had been kidnapped. Ziva had not exactly been the picture of empathy. But that was five years ago. She was different now.

"Tell us what happened," Ziva said gently to Sarah.

She pulled herself from Tony's grip, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Um…she wanted to go see her friends next door so I called their mom and she said it was OK and I sent the agent over there with her. I had her dinner ready so I went to pick her up, but Sheryl said Casey never arrived." On the last word, she began to break down again, and again, Tony comforted her, leading her over to the sofa and sitting them both down.

"Ziva," he whispered. "Call McGee, get the GPS coordinates from the Agent's cell phone. Put out a BOLO."

"You know their captor, assuming they were actually kidnapped, probably got rid of it. It could just lead us on a wild goose chase."

"Of course I know that, but do you think I'd be asking if I cared?" he snapped, raising his voice a little.

"OK," Ziva said, and called McGee.

"It's gotta be Darren, right?" Sarah sobbed, her head in her hands. "I mean, who else would take my little girl?"

"It's likely, Sarah, but we can't assume it was his. We haven't even been able to find him to get an alibi, so he's definitely suspicious, but we can't be sure."

Sarah sniffed. "I wish I could do more to help you, Tony."

He rubbed her back. "We'll find her Sarah. I promise we'll find your little girl."

**A/N: Twist! Would love a review :)**


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